


ai ai gasa

by GhostyKitty



Series: Haikyuu Oneshots [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Gen, kinda platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostyKitty/pseuds/GhostyKitty
Summary: you and tooru have a tradition that goes way back.Do not repost my work on a third party app or website.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Series: Haikyuu Oneshots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788043
Kudos: 41





	ai ai gasa

**Author's Note:**

> its a little more on the platonic side, no real defining relationship here other than friendship

The sky feels very heavy today. Thick, dark clouds are hanging so low that you feel like you can touch them just by reaching up. This morning, the weatherman was saying the storm would begin raining down at noon and last through the night. Judging by the fat drops of water that have splattered against the windows so far, it’s going to be here a little sooner. 

“Good morning!” The light hearted greeting has you spinning around with lighting speed. Oikawa Tooru is doing a jaunty little walk towards you, a grin on his face and his hands clasped behind his back.

“You forgot your umbrella didn’t you,” your deadpan tone shoots him through the chest. He chuckles a little and looks down, like a guilty kid who was caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

“Please!” He presses his hands together, even bowing his head. “I have a practice game tomorrow and I really can’t afford to get sick.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips. “How did you not bring an umbrella when the sky is looking like that?” You ask, eyebrows raised, finger pointing out the window. Distant thunder rumbles just on time. 

“I swear I had it packed in my bag this morning, but when I got here it was gone!” Nervous laughter follows his admission. Another fat raindrop hits the window, the water leaving a long trail down the glass.

“Okay,” you concede, “What time do you finish practice?” Oikawa glances off to the side, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. 

“I’m pretty sure it’ll end at the usual time, but because I have the key to the gym…”

“I’m only going to wait for five minutes after club activities officially end,” you firmly state. 

“Thirty.”

“Ten.”

“Twenty-five?”

“Fifteen is my final offer.”

“Okay twenty it is!” Oikawa reaches over and pats your head before sauntering off to his classroom. You click your tongue in an attempt to suppress the little grin on your face, and start walking to your own class.

\---

“Tooru,” you called out to the brown haired boy standing just inside the school entrance, “did you forget your umbrella?” He nodded, a frustrated pout on his lips. 

“Iwa-chan won’t share his with me either,” he grumbled. 

“That’s because it’s too small.” The black haired boy emerged from between the shoe lockers holding a very small folded umbrella. “It has to fit into my bag without taking up too much space.” 

“Why don’t you share one with me then?” you asked, holding up the yellow umbrella your mom sent you off with. “It should be big enough for the both of us because it’s supposed to be for adults.”

You’ll never be able to forget the bright smile on his face as he accepted your offer.

\---

The rain went from light drizzle to torrential downpour within half an hour. Fat, heavy droplets pound against the windows so loud the students who sit at the back of the class are having a difficult time hearing the teacher. 

After a few minutes, the rain backs down, settling into a steady, melodious song. It’s nowhere near as bad as the weatherman was saying on the news. Who knows, it just might end before club activities do. 

Lunch is eaten in the classroom, with desks bunched together to form tables. It feels a little crowded today, because no one can eat outside. Idle chatter and the occasional suggestion that the school might cancel classes because of the storm fill every corner of the room. It lulls you into a comfortable daze as you eat your lunch with your friends.

A pair of large, calloused hands cover your eyes. “Guess who?” he titters playfully. 

“Tooru,” you scold, “I’m eating lunch right now.” Before you can tug his hands away from your face, the volleyball captain brings them down to your shoulders. He leans over you from behind, brown eyes gazing into your own.

“Just making sure that you won’t ditch me after club activities end,” he teases with a grin.

“When have I not shared my umbrella with you?” you retort, staring right back at him. A few seconds pass, and Oikawa looks away first, a light flush dusting his cheeks. “Now go eat your own lunch or I’m calling Hajime to come get you.” 

“You wouldn’t!” he gasps dramatically, leaning back with his hand stuck to his forehead.

“Ah!” Iwaizumi’s gruff voice emerges from the hallway. “There you are! Stop nagging them and finish your food!” The irritated teen stalks in and grabs Oikawa by the collar of his sweater, tugging him away from you.

“Iwa-chan, that hurts!” Oikawa cries as he gets dragged away. He scrambles to grab onto the door before he can get pulled into the hallway. “Don’t forget to stay for twenty minutes!” he shouts. 

Now that he’s gone, you notice the lack of chatter in the room. The back of your neck tingles as everyone looks at you with curious eyes.

One of your classmates, a girl, approaches you hesitantly. “Are you and Oikawa-san going out?” Her voice nearly gets swallowed by the silence in the classroom. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head. The girl breathes a sigh of relief. “I just share my umbrella with him when he forgets to bring his.” Someone in the back corner starts choking on their food.

“Eh?”

“We’ve been doing it since grade school,” you say nonchalantly, taking another bite of your lunch.

“Ah, I see.” She looks down at her feet and bites her lip. She opens her mouth, as if she wants to say more, but she stops herself and shuffles away. The idle chatter returns, the comfortable atmosphere returning with it. 

The rest of lunch passes without incident, and you finish eating in peace.

\---

The rain pours down for the rest of the afternoon classes and the club period. There’s no sign of it letting up, as far as you can tell. Thick clouds still blanket the sky, leaving no room for the warmth of the sun to pass through. 

It’s times like this you really wish that it would cease for even a few seconds. You have your trusty yellow umbrella at the ready as you wait between the shoe lockers at the front of the school. All of your friends have left already, praying that the weather won’t worsen on their way home. 

Five minutes have passed.

While cultural clubs tend to end earlier than sports clubs, the school generally encourages everyone to leave a little earlier on days with a poor forecast. This would be one of those days. It just happens to be your luck that your umbrella buddy is still practicing in the gym. 

Ten minutes have passed.

You’re sitting just outside the entrance underneath the awning, knees pulled into your chest to avoid the rain. Most of the sports clubs have left, passing through the front entrance to grab their shoes before heading home. The rain has let up a little, so the few that don’t have umbrellas decide to risk running through it with their blazers over their heads. It’s a funny sight that entertains you enough while you wait. 

Fifteen minutes have passed.

The rain has been reduced to a light drizzle. It’s a welcome sight to you, and all you need now is for your umbrella buddy to actually show up. The sound of footsteps prick your ears. They should be coming from the hallway leading to the gym. You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief, but only Iwaizumi emerges from behind the shoe lockers. “Oikawa said he wanted to make sure that everything was in order in the store room,” he says with an annoyed look on his face. “Could you check in on him if he isn’t out here in five?”

“Yeah.” You push yourself off the ground, dust your uniform off, and make your way towards the gym. “You should get going while the rain is still light,” you say as you walk past him. Iwaizumi opens his mouth to protest, but you interrupt him before he can say anything. “I’m sure I’ll be able to handle him.”

Twenty minutes have passed.

The light drizzle has persisted, giving you hope that maybe you’ll be able to walk home without completely ruining your shoes. Oikawa still hasn’t shown up, so you take your time, praying to whatever may be up higher than the sky that he isn’t serving ball, after ball, after ball.

Unfortunately, that is the sound that greets you. 

Standing in the doorway of the gym, you can’t help but grow irritated as Oikawa keeps serving. Just the sound of him running up and serving the ball with a begrudgingly satisfying smack chips away at your patience. Every little squeak that comes from his shoes rubbing against the floor grates against your ears. With a sigh, you slip your shoes off and step inside. 

“Tooru-”

“One more and I’ll clean up.”

You cross your arms and shift your weight onto one foot, hip jutting out as your lips twist into an irritated frown. Thunder growls in the distance as Oikawa serves another ball. You call out to him again. He doesn’t respond this time. A sigh escapes your lungs as you gaze out the window, hoping that the light rain will remain a light drizzle just a little longer. 

“Tooru--” your voice is interrupted by the ridiculously powerful sound of a volleyball hitting the other side of the court. Deep breaths, you tell yourself. “Tooru if you don’t finish and clean up in five I’m gonna leave you here.”

“That’s fine.” His nonchalant tone makes your brow twitch with irritation.

“Is that so?” 

\---

“Last one,” he whispers as he leaps up and spikes the ball across the gym. It lands squarely on the line, knocking the empty bottle he’d placed there down with a satisfying smack. Elation is all he feels as he spins around to ask,

“Did you see that?”

His face falls. You aren’t there. You were just standing there a second ago, right? He looks around, trying to see if you’ve sat down somewhere else in the gym. The only thing that he can find is your yellow umbrella, leaning against the wall right by the door. 

A few lengthy strides is all he needs to reach the door, to peek out and see if you’re waiting in the hallway. He calls your name. There’s no answer. 

He finally notices that the sky is dark. The wind is howling and the rain is pouring down in sheets. 

When he checks his phone in the locker room, there’s only one text from Iwaizumi telling him to “get his dumbass home.” Concern boils over in his chest. Frantically, he sends you one, two, three texts. 

Where are you?

Are you okay?

Why did you leave?

He waits for a few minutes, hoping that you’ll respond with a quip about getting a notebook from your classroom, or how dumb he is for being worried about you. 

Five minutes pass.

Oikawa’s phone finally vibrates. “I’m fine.” Those two words send a sigh of relief through his chest. At least you’re safe, he thinks. 

The rain and its brethren are relentless. They try to push and pull him in a multitude of directions, but your yellow umbrella keeps him grounded as he makes his way home.

\---

The following day greets Oikawa with blue skies clear of clouds. He brings the yellow umbrella with him to school, hoping to give it to you along with some milk bread from his favorite bakery and an apology. Morning practice came and went. He traipsed through the hallways, hoping to catch you before or in between classes. He peeked into the classroom several times to see if you were there only to return to his own with dampened spirits and concern. Where could you be? You couldn’t be avoiding him could you?

Oikawa sends you a few (if twelve could be considered that) texts throughout the day, hoping that you’ll respond and shed some light on your location. It’s not until he runs into your friends that he learns what’s happened.

“Oh, yeah they caught a cold last night,” your friend reveals. Their next statement punches him in the gut. “They got caught in the rain on their way home and didn’t have an umbrella.” 

“I… I see,” he mumbles, lowering his head. His grip on the handle of your yellow umbrella tightens. “I’ll have to make it up to them I guess.”

Suddenly, the piercing sound of his phone ringing scatters his thoughts. He picks up immediately, hoping that it might be you. Instead, the irritated shout of Iwaizumi greets him. “Oi! Shittykawa you’re gonna be late for the practice game!” The setter has to pull the phone away from his ear a little to save his hearing.

“Iwa-chan,” his voice is steady despite the rapid pounding in his chest. “You should calm down a little, you know you’ll grow bald if you stay angry all the time.”

“I wouldn’t be angry all the time if you didn’t do shit like this!” 

“Alright, I’ll be there in a second,” he says, waving his hand as if Iwaizumi was right in front of him.

“You better, or I’ll hunt you down and drag you here myself,” the ace grumbles as he hangs up. 

Oikawa turns to your friends and tilts his head forward in a quick bow, thanking them for informing him about your whereabouts. Then he’s walking down to the gym as fast as possible.

He has a practice game to win.

\---

The first thing you’re aware of is the sheets around you. They feel soft yet stiff against your clammy skin. You stick a leg out of the warm covers hoping to relieve the conflicting feeling, only to grimace at the chill that creeps up your leg. It seems that there’s no good middle ground when you have a cold. When you make an attempt to sigh, you’re stopped by the congestion in your sinuses. It almost feels as if cotton has been packed into your head. 

Pulling your comforter up just a bit, you shuffle up your bed, trying to reach the box of tissues your mom left for you. Your fingertips finally meet the smooth cardboard box housing the precious sheets of relief for your nose. You pull it closer, pressing up on your elbows to free up your hands. 

Suddenly, your door is flung open with so much force that the knob hits the wall. The loud noise makes you retreat back under the cover of the blankets. “I come bearing gifts!” You peek out from the comforter to confirm your suspicions. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, flinching at the sound of your own voice before breaking into a cough. The soreness in your throat is brought to the forefront of your mind.

“What did your fever melt your brain or something?” Oikawa teases. You groan and bury your head under the sheets again. 

“Go away,” you whine. Oikawa gasps dramatically. 

“But I bought you milk bread and ice cream!” The plastic bag rustles as he (presumably) pulls siad food items out and places them on your night stand, next to the bottle of cold medicine. “I also have notes from class.” There’s an audible thump as he places them on your desk. “Still not gonna come out huh?” The sound of his sock covered feet shuffling against your floor pauses for a moment. “Well, if you’re not gonna come out,” a weight settles on the side of your bed, “then I might as well eat this ice cream myself. Otherwise it might melt and that would be such a waste.” 

You poke your head out of the sheets and glare at him with all the annoyance you can muster. The little tub of ice cream is in his hands, lid open. “Don’t you dare,” you grumble, snatching the container away. It’s still cold, but a little melted around the edges. You fiddle around a little, trying to keep the blanket around your shoulders while leaving your hands free to scoop the treat into your mouth. Oikawa sighs and takes the ice cream back, completely disregarding your protests as he takes the little spoon and digs in.

“What are you--” you’re silenced by the sweet yet refreshing taste and the smooth, full bodied texture of the ice cream landing on your tongue. Oikawa withdraws the tiny spoon with a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. With narrow eyes, you let the creamy treat melt a little before swallowing. Just as you open your mouth to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, the volleyball captain stuffs another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. 

“I came to apologize,” he states. “And since you’re mad at me, I know you’ll try your best to chase me out the chance you get it.” You pout and try to deny it, but Oikawa just shovels more ice cream into your mouth. “I should have cleaned up and met you outside, but I didn’t because I didn’t want to show up at the practice game without feeling ready.” He pauses to prepare another scoop of ice cream but you grunt and snatch the tub out of his hands. 

“Just keep talking,” you mutter. Oikawa winces at the sound of your scratchy, congested voice.

“Yeah… I uh… It was a selfish decision,” he sheepishly admits, pushing his bangs out of his face. “I’m the reason you’re sick in bed, and I want to make it up to you.”

“If you want to make it up to me, learn to take it easy once in a while,” you say. “I know that you already have Mondays off, but almost every day you stay later than everyone else for independent practice.” You swallow another spoonful of ice cream to let the cold treat soothe your sore throat. “Learn when to stop. Learn when enough is enough. Learn how to practice productively. Work smarter not harder, right?” Oikawa hums, leaning back on his arms.

“...so you don’t hate me for getting you sick?” His voice is uncharacteristically small. It almost makes you want to hug him… but germs.

“Tooru,” you swallow the last bit of ice cream, “we’ve known each other since we were kids. I watched you try to eat a mud pie when we were in elementary school. I’ve seen you with a bowl cut. I’m not gonna hate you because of one mistake you’ve made. You’re human, and I don’t expect you to be perfect.” 

Strong arms pull you into a hug and your fever seems to have returned full force. Oikawa’s soft, brown hair tickles your neck as he buries his head into your shoulder. The only thing you can do is panic. “Tooru!” you stammer, “you’re gonna get sick!” You try to wiggle free, only for his grip around you to tighten.

“I don’t care,” he says. “I just want you to know -- I don’t think I tell you enough -- how much I appreciate you. Not just for lending me your umbrella, everytime I forget mine, but for sticking around and supporting me.”

Your arms slowly make their way around Oikawa’s broad back, returning his embrace with as much strength you could muster.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr @catharsisbabey !!


End file.
